


turnabout is fair play

by flootzavut



Series: Swamp(y) Sex [16]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Bodyswap, Crack Treated Seriously, Crackfuc, M/M, Masturbation, Smutcember, crack smut, queer, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-09 18:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17412206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: It's the tickling that wakes Hawk up. There's something tickling his nose and his top lip, and when he goes to wipe it away, it's like some kind of creature took up residence there and is refusing to let go.Hawk wakes up to find that things aren't quite right in the state of Uijeongbu...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onekisstotakewithme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onekisstotakewithme/gifts).



> Written for the Swamp Smutcember '18. Dedicated to the Swamp rats ♥️
> 
> If it's smut x crack, does that make it smack?

* * *

**_turnabout is fair play_ **

* * *

 

It's the tickling that wakes Hawk up. There's something tickling his nose and his top lip, and when he goes to wipe it away, it's like some kind of creature took up residence there and is refusing to let go. He humphs in annoyance, and that's when he realises his voice doesn't sound right. He doesn't open his eyes, just mentally takes stock of all his limbs and bodily functions. He definitely hasn't lost anything too vital, but he doesn't feel _right_ , either. His cot is too small (even more so than usual), and the thing on his lip is irritating.

He's not really awake (and he's a little hungover), so he opts for running his hands over himself. There's definitely something afoot, though he doesn't know what. Everything feels too big, like he's gotten an allergic reaction and has swelled up all over, except that he's not bigger in a swelled up way, it's like someone rebuilt him on a slightly larger scale.

The shock comes when he strokes up under his shirt and discovers hair. A lot of hair. Not his own modest happy trail, but a veritable forest of chest hair like he's never had in his life. And that's not even counting the mystery of the body under the hair, which is much firmer than he's used to. (It's a little like he's touching Beej. He can't help stroking and enjoying, because even though this is extremely weird and he really needs to wake up properly and get back to normal, a well-defined, pleasantly hairy chest is a regular feature of his fantasies, and he'd be a fool to miss the opportunity to enjoy it up close.)

He finally peels his bleary eyes open (and oh God, why is it so bright in here?) and looks down, and he's suddenly very awake, because that is not his hand clutching at the blanket. He stares. "What the hell?"

When he looks around him, that's even more confusing; he's in BJ's cot, but there's no BJ in it. He glances over to his own cot, and there's somebody there, but the blanket is pulled up over their head.

"Back to the problem at hand, though," he mutters. His voice still sounds wrong, but is also starting to sound... familiar. There's a different resonance to it when it's coming out of his own mouth, when he can feel as well as hear it, but he sounds a hell of a lot like BJ.

He forces himself to keep his eyes open, inspects his hands and arms (large, strong, hairy), the shirt he's wearing in bed (a Henley), touches his face (an obnoxious moustache, actual eyebrows, hair that's parted on the wrong side), and has a quiet panic because he absolutely _must_ have lost his mind. Granted, Beej is a vital part of his life, Beej occupies more of Hawk's thoughts than he'd care to admit, but this is ridiculous.

... okay, so having a BJ-shaped body to play with isn't all bad. He can't seem to stop stroking his arms, his belly - BJ's arms, BJ's belly - can't help it. It's not as if he imagined _this_ , but getting his hands on BJ's skin is not something he's about to turn down, even if it isn't exactly how he wanted it to happen.

He shifts in the bed a little, wriggling to try and get comfortable (no wonder Beej doesn't sleep well, he's far too big for this cot), and in the course of wriggling, his (BJ's) body makes it known that he (BJ) is... aroused.

Hawk's mouth is suddenly dry, and he's even more awake. He glances across at the other cot (logic suggests it's full of Beej in Hawk's body, which is intriguing, though it isn't how Hawk hoped to get Beej inside himself), but there's no movement or sound besides breathing, so it's... safe, insofar as any of this is safe or normal or anything Hawk can make sense of.

It's just too tempting. No one could blame him, right? This is the chance of a lifetime. He's seen BJ from almost all conceivable angles, but he's never had the chance to touch, not like this, and given the opportunity, he'd be an idiot not to take advantage.

He settles back into the cot, heart pounding, excitement pooling in his belly. He slides his hands down his chest (down BJ's chest, holy shit), pulls his (BJ's) shirt right up, and God, this is confusing, but the warm skin under his fingers, the fuzz of hair, it all feels so good. He pushes a hand into his skivvies, and oh God, there, he's got his hand on BJ Hunnicutt's cock, even if at the moment it's not attached to BJ. Or it is, but BJ isn't home. Or-

Fuck it. This is not the time to overthink, this is the time to enjoy. " _Fuck_." He's seen BJ's cock before, he's been sneaking peeks at it since the first time they showered in adjacent cubicles, and he's been fantasising about it since before he even clapped eyes on it. Ever since he took a second glance in Kimpo and saw that smiling, apple pie face, he's wanted to do all sorts of things with BJ, with BJ's cock.

Reality does not disappoint. It's hot and thick (damn, his ass aches with need just thinking about it), and it feels so good. He thrusts lazily into his hand. He's leaking already, painfully turned on by this strange combination of touching himself and touching someone else (touching Beej), and even if he never gets to do this for BJ, not for real, he wants to remember every second of how this feels, the weight of BJ's cock, the heat of it.

He smooths his thumbs over the head, lifts one to his mouth because he just has to know what BJ tastes like, then moans because it's too much, it's too real. It's musky and salty, and Hawk wants BJ's cock in his mouth, in his ass, wants BJ in his bed.

"Oh, God." Fuck, hearing his own sounds of pleasure in BJ's voice is a fucking _trip_. He thrusts harder, faster, hips snapping up, and tightens his fingers around his (BJ's) cock. "Beej... oh God, Beej, please."

The scientist side of his brain notes, as he comes, that an orgasm feels quite different in BJ's body, but the rest of him - indeed, the majority of him - is riding the wave, utterly unable to stop shaking and writhing. He can't control a single part of his (BJ's) body including his (BJ's) mouth. "Oh _fuck_ , Beej," he wails, then collapses back into the cot as the mellow pleasure seeps into every muscle and bone. "Fuck."

For quite some time, he just lies there, floppy as a rag doll, utterly satiated. When he eventually turns on his left side to look over at the other cot, he finds black hair and blue eyes and a worried expression; it's like looking in a mirror that isn't quite right. "Hawk?"

"Beej."

"Is that really you?"

"Mmhm."

BJ/Hawk blinks at him. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Damned if I know."

They stare at each other.

"How do we change back?"

Hawk wonders if there's a chance in hell Beej will believe that it's something to do with sex. Then again, that's not gonna stop Hawk eventually suggesting a good hard fuck as a potential solution if this doesn't resolve itself in the near future. "I have no idea."

"Oh." Another pause. "Hawk?"

"Mmhm?"

"Being you isn't so bad."

Hawk throws back his head and cackles. "Know what, Beej? So far, being you is pretty damn good."


	2. Chapter 2

For once, BJ doesn't wake up crampy or twisted into a pretzel because of the damn cot, and it takes a while of lying there enjoying being less uncomfortable than usual before it occurs to him to wonder why. He's cocooned happily in his blanket (which smells strangely homey and familiar), and no one's yelling, there are no choppers, and it's not like it's actively _comfortable_ , but his standards these days are pretty low for what he'll call a good way to start his morning.

It is sort of weird, though. It's as if the cot is wider and longer than he's used to. (And why the hell does it smell so different than usual and yet so _good_?)

There's a rustling noise, which he'd think was Hawk except it's coming from the wrong direction. It's either Charles or a particularly large rat; BJ has no desire to see it either way, so he stays under his blankets and tries to take stock, although he's a little hungover. And also... also there's just something... _off_.

("Fuck," he hears, and okay, maybe Hawk's up to something on Charles' side of the tent. BJ's still not sure he wants to know, but it's a better alternative than a rat or than Charles, so it's sort of a relief. It didn't sound exactly like Hawk, but BJ's never known Charles to resort to vulgar language. He's not convinced Charles would know the word 'fuck' if it jumped up and bit him.)

BJ rubs his face, and whoa, where's his 'stache? If Hawk shaved him for a joke he's gonna... well. He's not sure what he's going to do, but his retribution will not be pretty. (Either it was Hawk, or BJ drank _way_ too much last night. There's no one else who'd be that sneaky.) His face feels _weird_ without a moustache, he feels naked, and like his nose is too long and his mouth is just - God, he's gotten used to his face fuzz, he likes it, and its disappearance makes his whole face feel like it belongs to a stranger.

There are more familiar noises from (BJ assumes) Hawk; exactly why he's doing it over there, BJ can't imagine, but it kinda sounds like Hawk's giving himself some early morning delight.

Discretion is vital living with two other men in a tent that really isn't all that big, so BJ stays under his blanket. He can't exactly give Hawk privacy, but he can pretend to, pretend he's asleep, and that's the main thing.

The chance of him actually falling back to sleep himself is slim to none. For starters, the creak of the cot and the heavy breathing are difficult to block out. BJ can't even make himself try all that hard; mastubatory aids aren't exactly easy to come by in this place. Hawk jerking off has been the soundtrack to BJ relieving tension way too many times, and his cock reacts predictably.

It's Pavlovian, unavoidable.

(Okay, yes, he's also undeniably attracted to Hawkeye Pierce, and Hawk's sex noises don't help matters. It's too easy to daydream about prompting those sounds himself, about Hawk writhing on his fingers or sucking his cock, or Hawk's eyes going black with need as BJ touches him, or (a personal favourite) of being inside Hawk as Peg fucks him from behind. Having both them at the same time is a fantasy that's helped BJ through a lot of lonely nights.)

There's no use fighting it, so he doesn't, slipping a hand down his chest and into his skivvies. And that's when he knows there's something very weird happening here.

The cock he finds between his thighs isn't so very small, but it's a lot smaller than it was last time he looked. When he explores more, he finds thighs that are too slender and too smooth, a belly that's somehow too skinny and too soft at the same time, a chest that's as lacking in hair as his top lip, and it's all both deeply strange and yet also terribly... familiar.

Without even thinking about it, he pinches the unfamiliar yet familiar nipples perched on pecs much fleshier than he's used to, and it's as if there's an electric circuit joining them to not-actually-his-cock, and his brain says, _wow, Hawk has sensitive nipples_ , and the thought is so utterly ludicrous but makes so much sense that he is definitely, thoroughly, undeniably awake.

"Oh God," says a voice from the same corner of the tent, and BJ noses his face out from under his blanket to see what in the hell is happening. The tent's all wrong from this angle - he's in Hawk's bed ( _you're in Hawk's body_ , says an insistent voice in his head he's trying so very hard to ignore), and just over there is his own cot, full of what is undeniably, well, _him_. And _he_ is writhing, thrusting into his own hand so hard the blanket doesn't hide it at all, and damn, that's... hot. Moans and grunts and a needy, desperate whine of pleasure in his own voice, with a cadence that's not _him_ but is still so _familiar_.

BJ watches wide-eyed, and his/not his hand moves of its own accord back down to his/not his crotch where a cock that's definitely not his but is decidedly _attached_ to him is aching and pulsing in time with the show in the next cot over. He pinches his nipple and gasps when it has the same effect as before, and the second they're... the moment things are... he can't think about this, it's too strange, but 'suck on Hawkeye Pierce's nipples' suddenly makes a surprise appearance in his list of life ambitions. Somewhere very near the top. Moving his hips in time with _his_ hips isn't intentional, it happens without a conscious thought, he finds himself locked into that rhythm and can't for the life of him hold it back.

Then it happens, "Beej, oh God, Beej, please," says _his_ voice in Hawk's accent, _his_ pitch but Hawk's timbre, and it's so familiar and Jesus, so damn hot. _He_ falls apart, arching and shaking and (oh mercy) wailing, then "Oh fuck, Beej." It's so much, it's too much. BJ thrusts harder and faster into his fist as he watches Hawk slump back into the pillow. Apparently the loud mouth goes with the personality, not the physiology, because BJ manages to come all over himself (and Hawk's blanket, God, that's why it smells so damn good) without making a sound, his throat taut with arousal.

It's impossible to let go of _his_ cock. It's taken BJ so long to get his hands on it in the first place, and even spent and sticky and smaller still, he can't bring himself to give it up. _I could swallow him whole_. Yet another thought BJ's been suppressing forever and can't seem to push down any longer. Fuck, he's in _so much_ fucking trouble here. He needs Sidney to come sort them out, Peg to reassure him it's okay he's imagining getting fucked by his own cock, and Hawk-Beej-whoever the fuck Hawkeye is right now to join him in the shower. All at once, if necessary.

Hawk-not-Hawk turns toward him (there's his missing 'stache, and he cannot allow Hawk to shave just because BJ's not currently in residence), and he looks satisfied, not to say smug. (Is that how BJ looks after sex? What a smug fucker. BJ wants to try.) It's just as well BJ's still covered in the blanket up to his neck so Hawk can't see how he's touching, pinching, feathering his fingers down (there's no pretending otherwise) Hawk's belly and teasing at the cute little happy trail he's been resisting the urge to stroke for far too long.

Hawk looks far more collected than should be fair after waking up in someone else's body and being watched fucking that body's hand.

"Hawk?" BJ manages, voice quavering a little. It has to be Hawk in there, no other explanation makes sense ( _this_ explanation doesn't make sense.), but BJ needs to check all the same.

"Beej," Hawk says with a smile, and even on BJ's own face, the expression is familiar.

"Is that really you?" he asks, even as relief floods him.

"Mmhm."

Well, at least that's... reassuring. Mostly. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Damned if I know," Hawk admits with a shrug.

They stare at each other. _How'd you like my body? Are you having fun?_ No, he needs to be practical. "How do we change back?"

Hawk stares at him. BJ stares back. Is 'have loud, messy sex' a natural suggestion for curing something so weirdly intimate, or is it wishful thinking based on 'God, I wanna hear Hawk make sounds like that right in my ear?'

Eventually Hawk shrugs. "I have no idea."

"Oh." Another pause. "Hawk?" BJ says, hand creeping back down to his crotch. Apparently Hawk makes up for his relatively diminutive size in part with an enviably short refractory period.

"Mmhm?"

BJ smiles. "Being you isn't so bad."

Hawk throws back his head and cackles. That laugh is no less delightful issuing from BJ's own mouth. "Know what, Beej?" Hawk says, grin wide and filthy. "So far, being you is pretty damn good."

_~ fin ~_

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is wondering, it might get a sequel at some point, but I'm up to my eyeballs in AUs so I'm trying to resist the temptation for the mo...


End file.
